Indigo's Playlist
by milominderbinder
Summary: I am the Music-loving Muggle best friend of Rose Weasley. I was once content to wander, unimpressed, through life. Then I met James Potter, and this left me 15, pregnant, and wondering, for the first time, if I might just be almost sort-of happy.
1. Indigo by Tom Milsom

Indigo's Playlist

Indigo - Tom Milsom

Photographs that I took  
That were once black and white would now be free  
To be…  
In shades of Indigo for you.

The gum had become a sort of legend amongst our families. Every single one of Rose's aunts, uncles and cousins could tell you about the mini 'vanishing cabinets' that Hermione had made especially for us to transport it, the place where Rose had bought it, how long it had been circulating between us. It was just one more thing that everyone found a little hard to believe about how close I was to Rose, and she was to me. To me and Rose, it was just a way cooler version of friendship bracelets. At least that was what it had started out as. Now, it was more a good luck charm. And boy, did I need some luck today.

I was sat at my desk on Monday, September 5th, with my huge headphones around my neck, blasting Death Cab For Cutie at full volume, and staring impatiently at the small 'jewellery box' that was actually a vanishing cabinet. It was my first day back to school, and I had already showered, eaten, packed my bag and got dressed. Now I was just waiting.

My heart jumped out of my chest as Cally pounded on my bedroom door.

"Hurry up!" she yelled over the top of the music. "We're going to be late!"

I ignored her, and carried on my one-ended staring contest. Behind me, the five clocks ticked not quite in time, and I knew that we were going to be late if it didn't come within the next 20 seconds.

I wasn't going to give up, so I grabbed the box, walked over to the door and wrenched it open. In front of me, my pretty, dark-haired, reclusive thirteen-year-old sister was stood. She was wearing the regulation school uniform for the all-girls school we went to. Knee length kilt, matching tie, primly buttoned shirt, ridiculous blazer, long white socks, and black pumps. I was wearing a much messier version, shirt sleeves rolled up and skirt wrinkled, that kind of thing. Cally always cared more than I did.

"We can't leave until it comes," I told her firmly.

"Why?"

I didn't answer, because at that moment the box sort of glowed a faint gold. I wrenched it open and before Cally could even blink I had shoved the gum in my mouth.

"Oh, thank God!" I cried. "I thought it wasn't going to get here in time!"

"In time for what?" asked Cally suspiciously.

"Oh! Err, nothing. Come on, it's time for school."

My first day of year 11. Cally was, of course, just going into year 9. And it had been a whole five days since I waved Rose onto the Hogwarts express. I couldn't say I was exactly looking forward to it.

Mum was sat at the kitchen table in her ridiculous pink silk pyjamas (yes, that is my family). She still looked a mess, but Mummy Hermione had worked her magic fairly well. She gave us each a weak smile and pushed our lunches towards us. Cally kissed her cheek before taking hers, but I didn't bother. I probably should have. I should probably have been trying to suck up as much as I could, just in case I was… God, I couldn't even say it.

We climbed over piles of Dad's stuff in the hallway, cardboard prisons filled with clothes, tennis rackets and cheesy music which is painful to listen to. I kicked every box, before fighting our way out the door. Normally we'd be walking in a comfortable silence, with only the sound of my iPod between us, since Cally was quiet and I was antisocial. But today it was awkward, and I was humming along to the song under my breath (Indigo, by Tom Milsom - it's one of my favourite songs, and not just because my name is the title). I was too nervous to do anything right that morning.

The bus stop was full of people laughing and joking, and Cally quickly slipped away to sit alone on the grassy verge, so I scowled, chewed my gum, and held my headphones to my ears. It seemed like an eternity until the bus came, but I knew that was just me. The butterflies were chewing up my stomach, and I felt more nervous than the tiny year 7s looked. But I wasn't nervous because of school.

You know, this is all really hard to explain. I think I'd better go back to the beginning. Namely, this July.


	2. Friends by Band Of Skulls

Indigo's Playlist

Friends - Band of Skulls

It was two weeks until the end of term, and Dad chose _now _to skip out on us. It wasn't that we were surprised - me and Cally had suspected he was up to something for weeks, even if Mum hadn't - but we had thought he was waiting until the summer holidays to tell us. Cally had her mock SATs, I had GCSE's, and we figured he wouldn't want to stress us out even more. But no, apparently he couldn't take even 14 more days in our house. So, just the week before, he'd packed his bags and left.

He'd said he was just going away for a few days to clear his head, an excuse he had been using for his affairs for years, but we weren't idiots. We knew he wasn't coming back. And if we didn't know that then, we sure as hell knew it now, a week later with no word. Of course, we'd not missed a second of school (since our Mum didn't want _anyone_ knowing there was _anything_ wrong), but after having a mini-breakdown in the middle of maths (_finally_ a decent excuse to punch Steph Clemmons) I'd been told to get some air. And maybe ring and ask to go home.

Well, of course I wasn't going to go home, and there was no-one to take me anyway, so I sat on the school wall and listened to my music, losing myself in the lyrics, something I did a lot. Thinking about real life made me feel like I was drowning, and it was horrible, but listening to OK Go made me feel like I was floating. Or listening to anything, really, it was just that I happened to be nodding my head along to _Shooting The Moon_ when it happened.

In all the drama, I had completely forgotten the day. So, as I drew my knees up to my chest, not caring if anyone saw my pants (which I thought were probably Rose's anyway, since they were patterned with red flowers, not exactly my kind of thing), and tried not to cry, I was shocked to hear a voice screeching my name.

"INDIGO!"

I froze, and looked around for where it was coming from. I hadn't felt like talking about Dad, so I'd ignored my mirror every night when it went off. Rose would always be there, so I didn't have to worry about her being offended. Occasionally I just needed space. I was that kind of person. But now, I could distinctly make out Rose's voice yelling my name. My mirror was in my tatty old rucksack, by my side, and it wasn't glowing so I knew that wasn't it.

It was probably just wishful thinking, I told myself, realising how much I actually wanted to talk all of a sudden. And then, before I could burst into tears at the hopelessness of it all, I spotted it.

At the traffic lights was the Weasley-Granger's car. And in it, squashed up against the window, was a shock of red hair around a pale face that was screaming with delight. I broke out into a grin as there was an unintelligible squeal and the car stopped completely. Then Rose leapt out of the car, followed eagerly by Hugo.

I laughed as I jumped down from the wall (which was, on this side, about twice my height away from the ground). Rose gave a maniacal giggle (not her most attractive feature, I'll admit) and caught me in a tight hug.

"I'll never get used to you doing that," she said, pulling away, laughing. I shrugged and she squealed, pulling me in for another bone-crushing hug. "I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Rosie!"

I tried to wiggle out of her grasp a few seconds later when my lungs started to protest by stopping, but this only caused her to redouble her grip with an amount of force that pushed us both onto the ground. Laughing her evil axe-murderer laugh she climbed off me and helped me up before pushing me on Hugo.

"Hey, Hug!" I exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek. He was taller than me. "God, you grew so much since Christmas! Cally _may _be forced to chainsaw your legs off, just a heads-up."

"Ha ha, Indigo, very funny," he said, rolling his eyes. It was an ongoing joke between our families that Cally looked about twenty, and Hugo about seven, when she was five months younger than him.

"Why were you sat on the wall?" asked Rose, giggling again and snuggling her head into my shoulder.

"Got sent out of Maths," I said, shrugging. Desperately trying to change the subject I waved at the other occupants of the car; a sandy haired boy, a black haired boy and a young redheaded girl I recognised as some of Rose's never-ending list of cousins, and Daddy Ron, who waved back.

Whenever I call Hermione and Ron Mummy and Daddy, people always look at me and go, 'you don't look anything like your parents.' That's totally untrue, but me and Rose have fun pretending we're sisters to total strangers, and then telling them we're actually not related, and I just treat her parents like my own because I've known them for so long. Yeah, that doesn't really sound fun, I know. A lot of people think we're retarded because of it (well, among other reasons).

"Coming back to our place, Indigo?" Daddy yelled through the window.

"Oh, sure, why not," I replied easily. "They probably won't need me for the rest of the day anyway. There's only Biology left and that grosses me out."

We all piled back into the car, me crawling onto Rose's lap because of the lack of space, and Rose introduced me to the other three mystery teenagers.

"This is Lily, Albus, and James. You've probably met them before, they don't live very far away. They're the Potter-Weasley's."

"Oh, right, your dad's the famous one."

They laughed at that, but I hadn't been joking.

"So famous it's not even funny anymore," said James, the blondish one, although he seemed to find it hilarious.

"Oh, wait!" said Rose suddenly, throwing her hands up in the air. Everyone fell silent. "I forgot! I'm mad at you!"

"Really? Why?" I asked, mentally going over the list of things in my head I could have done wrong. It would have been a pretty long list if it was anyone else but Rose, but she normally finds offensive things funny (being the retard that she is), so I was at a loss.

"You haven't picked up for a week! I tried you, like, ten million times! I really wanted to talk!"

I froze, and suddenly remembered all the crap going on in my life.

"I didn't feel like speaking to anyone," I muttered, folding my arms and looking straight ahead. "Me and Cally went to bed early."

And then I saw her looking at me, noticing the bags under my puffy eyes and the lankness of my hair for the first time.

"Indigo?" she asked carefully. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly I was horribly aware of everyone else in the car listening to us, but I didn't even care because I was choked up with tears.

"No," I said thickly, putting a hand up to my face, still not looking at her. "Mum won't get out of bed, the house is a war-zone, we've been eating cereal out of the box for a week because there's no electric and I can't get to the supermarket to go shopping, and me and Cally spend every night crying under my bed."

"Oh Merlin, Indigo! What happened?"

"Dad left. And he's not coming back this time," I said, and then burst into tears, because it was the first time I'd said it out loud like that; it was the cold, hard truth, and it hurt. I felt Rose's arm around my shoulder and Hugo hugging me tightly and Daddy telling me it would all be okay as he pulled into their driveway. Together the three of them dragged me into the house, with a little help from Mummy Hermione, who had come rushing out to meet us.

In their house they sat me down on the sofa and Daddy made me a cup of tea in my special mug (yeah, he's a bit crap in these sorts of situations. Especially since I don't even _like_ tea that much; it's too weak). After I'd calmed down a bit I told Mummy all about it, while Hugo held my hand and Rose sat at my feet, hugging my knees.

"Everything's going to be okay, Indy, I promise," Mummy said when I was done. "It's just the way sometimes, sweetie, when two people don't love each other any more."

"I know!" I wailed. "I know, and that's not why I'm so upset! I just think they could have sat down and talked about it like the adults they're supposed to be, and then they could have talked to me and Cally about it too, and given us a little warning that our whole lives were about to change! And then Mum could have been strong and not retreated to her bed and left me to do everything even though I'm only fifteen and I don't know what to do! Everything's all messed up, Mummy!"

Mummy kissed my forehead, and I suddenly noticed the Potter-Weasley's stood in the corner, looking completely awkward. I wiped my face on the sleeve of my blazer and sniffed a bit more, trying to collect myself. This was one of the times when it was a good thing I didn't wear make-up. I would look even more of a mess than I did anyway.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Mummy announced. "You are going to upstairs and get cleaned up and into your pyjamas. Ron is going to go to St. Helens and collect Callison, and bring her back here. Then I am going to go over to your house and talk to your mother. We'll figure it out, so no worrying, okay?"

I nodded dumbly, and sniffed again as Mummy set about getting everyone moving. Lily, who couldn't have been any older than thirteen, and Albus and James, who both looked our age, stood hesitantly in the corner as Rose and Hugo attempted to all but carry me across the room. Normally, with Rose's family, I didn't have to be worried about keeping my mask on. Well, mask isn't quite the word, but… I was just different around them, I guess. It was only them and Cally who I'd ever been myself around. I was awkward if other people were around. So I was confused as to why one of my few social safety nets was suddenly feeling so awkward. Of course, now I know that the inexplicable need to get away from Rose's cousins as fast as humanely possible was probably just foreboding of the crap that was to come, thanks primarily to them (well, one of them in particular).

At the time I just thought I was paranoid.

_I need love, 'cause only love is true,_

_And my friends, they are so beautiful._


	3. Anything But Ordinary by Avril Lavigne

Indigo's Playlist

Anything But Ordinary - Avril Lavigne

The next morning I woke in Rose's room. It was early; I could hear the steady rhythm of Rose's light snores on the other side of the huge canopy bed, and the _snuffle-snuffle-puffffffffff _of Cally's restless breathing from where she was curled up at the bottom of the mattress. I was so accustomed to both sounds that I didn't need to open my eyes to know that they were both sleeping soundly - to most, Cally would sound as though she was having nightmares, but I knew better.

I opened my eyes. The room was dappled in the pale pre-dawn light filtering in through Rose's curtains. It made the rosebud wallpaper seem sickly sweet, and cast pretty shadows on her white-washed little-girly furniture, while at the same time making all the punk clothes laying on the floor and the scary posters of rockstars covered in blood on the walls seem all the more creepy. Rose's room was a paradox, just like her.

I've never been one to lay about doing nothing. Careful not to disturb the bed, since Cally is a fairly light sleeper (although Rose was dead to the world, and would be for quite some time), I slid out from under the duvet.

Dressed in one of the many oversized band T-shirts that I kept here for impromptu sleepovers (Sonic Youth this time), plus some furry bed socks and Rose's least favourite pair of black leggings, I crept over to the dresser, where my iPod had been laid out to charge. I unplugged it, put the headphones on and set it to Avril Lavigne before slipping out onto the landing.

As I padded quietly down the stairs I mouthed along to the song, doing mini head-bangs, probably inflating my hair to the size of a small country. I entered the kitchen, ready to consume my weight in coffee before finding one of Rose's trashy books to entertain me. I had just reached the counter when an amazing guitar solo came on, and I just had to dance. It was probably about a minute later when I spun around, half-way through a spectacular bout of air-guitaring, to find James Potter leaning on the door frame, watching me with an amused expression.

"Oh. Hi," I said awkwardly, straightening up and turning down the music.

"Hey," he replied casually. "What're you doing up so early."

"Oh, err, I've never really been one for lie-ins."

"Me neither."

"Erm… coffee?"

That was a pretty smooth line in my opinion, but he laughed as he nodded.

There was a pause as I clumsily fiddled about with the coffee maker. It was stuck. I pulled with all of my Incredible Hulk strength, but it still wouldn't come out. Frowning angrily, I tried twisting it, and could feel the plastic almost snap between my fingers. I almost wished it would, but I wasn't strong enough. At least then I would look macho while failing miserably.

There was a low chuckle from behind me. I could feel James' gaze on my back like a laser beam, and it didn't make my assault on the coffee pot any easier.

A few moments passed, and then all of a sudden James was pressed up against my back, his arms reaching around either side of me to easily twist the pot out.

"Shall I just do it?" he muttered into my ear. I, as is to be expected of somebody as socially inept as me, froze, hands resting on the countertop and eyes staring straight ahead. He laughed again (what was so funny!?), and slid over to the sink to fill up the pot.

Having been made unfortunately obsolete in my coffee-providing profession, I took a seat at the island in the middle of the room and set about trying not to look as awkward as I felt.

There were about ten seconds of silence as James sauntered about, looking completely at ease, before it became obvious that he had no idea where the coffee was.

"It's in with the bleach," I said, pointing to the little cupboard under the sink. He looked, found the coffee, and turned around to face me with one eyebrow raised. "It's so Hugo can't find it, since he gets incredibly hyper if he even _thinks_ about caffeine. Obviously he'd never be anywhere that contained objects used for cleaning, so it's a pretty good hiding place."

"You seem to know all these guys pretty well," James commented as he measured out the beans.

"Well, me and Rose basically grew up together, so it would have been pretty hard to avoid her entire family. Plus, Hugo and Mummy and Daddy are cool. They're nice to me."

He shook his head slightly and finished making the drinks.

"So, Indigo, right?" he said as he sat down opposite me and passed me my mug.

"Yeah. Indigo Dell."

"Sorry, just checking. I'm terrible with names. Cool name, by the way."

"Thanks."

The silence became awkward, so for lack of something better to do I sipped my scalding hot coffee, instantly regretting it when I felt the top of my mouth shrivel up and die a painful death. It was somewhere akin to drinking lava mixed with the liquidated sun which had been in an oven on full temperature for several days. In any normal situation I would have screamed, but I suddenly felt cripplingly shy, and I suffered in silence.

"Okay," said James suddenly, sliding his chair around so that he was sat next to me. "What're you listening to?"

He twisted one side of the headphones to rest against his ear. I froze.

"It's, err, Avril Lavigne… I know she's quite old, but I guess it's a bit of a guilty pleasure or something."

I felt even more stupid now, about three years old, stammering about this singer who everyone thought was rubbish. I was sure he was going to be all condescending, but he surprised me by grinning, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out his wallet, extracting a little piece of blue paper and showing it to me.

"I went to see her farewell tour two years ago. I got so excited I almost made myself sick. I've been carrying the ticket 'round ever since. My family all think I'm insane."

My face broke out into a genuine smile as I studied the little ticket.

"I was at that concert," I told him, slightly amazed. "Rose wouldn't come with me on principle, so I smuggled in my sister, and we stayed until about three in the morning. Our parents were so mad when they found us creeping back in, they grounded me for five months for being a bad influence."

James laughed.

"My mum came with me, but forgot to leave a note for my dad, so he was totally freaking out when we got back, because he'd had no clue where we were. Mum calmed him down in the end by giving him the T-shirt we'd brought back for him. He laughed in our faces and gave it back, and he's never worried if I stay out late again."

I grinned and sipped my drink. James copied me, and I couldn't help feeling that this socializing thing was easier than I'd thought.

"Oh, sorry about the whole emotional breakdown thing yesterday," my mouth said suddenly, apparently without consulting my brain first. "Probably not the best welcome home present."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I was pretty close to one myself, to be honest. I'm kind of freaking out about having left school."

"You've left school?"

"Yeah. This was my last year. Now I have to work and everything. Boring, right."

"So how old are you?"

"I'm eighteen."

So he was three years older than me. Great.

"You could drive a car if you wanted to," I said. Once again, my brain was one step behind as I realised how stupid that sounded. He looked at me weirdly. "I _really_ want to drive," I explained with a slightly guilty smile. "Then I'll be able to get out of this stupid town and actually go places. As soon as I'm eighteen I'm going to drop out of school and me and Rose are going to travel."

"Sounds like a plan," he said. "I always planned to travel, but I've ended up jumping straight into work. I start work at the end of the summer, and I'm moving into my new flat in a week. I don't have a clue how it happened."

I shook my head enviously.

"You're so lucky. I still have loads of school left. I wish I could just _work_ for a living. Life would be so much simpler."

"You really are weird," he said, smiling at me. A lot of people would have taken offence if somebody said that to them. I was flattered.

"I'd rather be anything than ordinary," I told him.

"What's so wrong with being ordinary?"

"I just don't like being a statistic," I admitted. "I know it's kind of inevitable, but most of the time I try to be different to anyone else. It just feels good to me, to know that I'm in the minority. Makes me feel… important, I guess. I know it's stupid."

"No, that makes sense," he said, nodding as he sipped his coffee. I drained my cup and moved to fill it up again.

"Caffeine addict," I said in reply to his incredulous glance. I knew what he was thinking; I mean, my mug was quite big, and his coffee was quite strong (although weak by my standards).

"I'm surprised you can stomach this stuff," he admitted. "It's pretty industrial."

"Pfft, this is as weak as a five year old girl with bunches and no front teeth. My regular coffee is a tattooed body-builder wanted in fifty-three countries. My strong coffee makes Gods eyes water."

He looked at me incredulously for a moment before laughing once and shaking his head.

"My girlfriend doesn't even drink tea unless it's decaffeinated," he said.

"Yeah, well I'm obviously just way better than her," I said. For some reason at the mention of the word _girlfriend_ my stomach had twisted slightly. I felt horribly cliché and uncomfortable, so I ignored it.

He laughed again, and I smiled back. It felt easy.

"So, tell me about you. You're Rose's best friend, are you evil like her? I mean, she used to be sweet when she was tiny, but recently she seems to be extremely… can I use the word scathing without sounding stupid?"

I laughed.

"Rose wants everyone to think she's so tough, but notice that she's never changed her rosebud wallpaper, and if she sees a baby she goes _'Ahh_!' She tries to be mad at the world, but she's got nothing to be mad about. Trust me, she's all sugar and smiles on the inside."

"How about you? Are you secretly, err, 'all sugar and smiles'?"

"No. I'm black to the core."

I'm pretty sure I have the most terrifying evil grin in the world. James didn't seem all that affected by it though, he just smiled back (normally, not evilly) and grabbed my iPod to turn up the volume.

An hour, six cups of coffee and a bowl of coco-pops later Hermione, wearing a floral dressing gown and matching slippers, wandered into the kitchen, to find me dancing around the kitchen to _Sk8r Boi _while James lay on the lino doing air guitar. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Hi Mummy!" I said happily, leaping over and kissing her cheek. "Sleep well?"

She blinked and recovered slightly. After fifteen years of knowing me she was used to the mood swings, but they were rarely this extreme; I'd gone from breakdown to bubbly (Me! Bubbly! What is the world coming to?) in less than twelve hours.

"Fine, thanks, honey, you?"

"Not too bad," I replied, smiling breathlessly and sitting down. Mummy moved to the counter to make herself some tea.

"I slept great, thanks for asking," said James after a few moments of silence. I laughed, he grinned, and Mummy watched us with an unfamiliar look in her eye.

Next to appear in the kitchen was Cally, who kept fiddling with her hair and chewing the inside of her mouth. She was fully dressed in neat jeans and a pink T-shirt that was Rose's from long ago, before her evil stage.

"Cally, this is James. James, this is my sister Cally. I don't think you really got a chance to meet last night," I said. Cally won't introduce herself to people; you have to do it for her. I may be awkward in social situations, but Cally is genuinely disabled.

I must admit, I find that funny.

James smiled at her and gave a small wave. Cally gave a terrified nod and took the seat next to me, shuffling as close as she could. I put an arm around her.

"You okay?" I whispered in her ear. She nodded and I kissed her cheek. Sometimes I feel like I have to be Cally's mum, since our actual one occasionally forgets. That was one of those times.

Soon the kitchen was almost full. James' siblings, Albus and Lily, had joined us, and Lily was talking in triple-time at Cally. Notice use of the word _at_. Cally wasn't paying attention, but I could tell she liked Lily. Albus was sat alone, reading a big book with a Russian author, which both impressed and intimidated me at the same time. Hugo was making his cereal float around the room. Ron had been and gone, off to some work thing.

It was almost lunch time when Rose wandered in. By then it was only me and James again. Lily had dragged a terrified Cally into town, Mummy had gone to see Mum, Hugo and Albus were off to hang about with their respective friends. Rose was in her black, skull emblazoned pyjamas, hair a mess, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She caught sight of me and James laughing together, and said, straight-faced and expression wondrous, "perfect."

I didn't know what she was on about, so I ignored her. That night, after Cally and Rose were out for the count, I laughed myself to sleep, and dreamt of James.

_Sometimes I get so weird I even freak myself out,_

_I laugh myself to sleep cus it's my lullaby._


	4. READ THIS!

**AN:**

**Sorry, but I won't be posting this story here anymore =(**

**To be honest, I don't really use this site anymore, and I don't see the point in posting a story in two separate places when one version is a lot better - so from now on, if you still want to read this story, you'll find it on harrypotterfanfiction . com, with the same name, and the same author name. Go read the edited, improved, lengthened version there. And while you're there, check out a sort of companion peice I'm writing called 'Project Just Desserts' - it's funny, I promise! Blatant self-promotion, but I don't care.**

**Sorry again, **

**- InsertWittyCommentHere**


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